I used to think that technology could help education. I've probably spearheaded giving away more computer equipment to schools than anybody else on the planet. But I've had to come to the inevitable conclusion that the problem is not one that technology can hope to solve. What's wrong with education cannot be fixed with technology. No amount of technology will make a dent. It's a political problem.

When I now think of how the uncertainty about my own future, and the proximity of death, threw me into torment, careering wildly between hope and despair, I look back in wonder at how little I thought about the effect I had on my own patients after I had spoken to them. I did worry that if my tone of voice was too pessimistic the poor patient might spend what little time they had left feeling deeply depressed, simply waiting to die. So I tried to find a balance between telling them the truth and not depriving them of hope. After a patient died, I only occasionally heard back from the family, so I had little way of knowing whether the way I had spoken to them was appropriate or not.

In the first few months of Nubank, I asked everybody to be here by 8:00 a.m. every day. I saw it as a test of people's commitment, and I was pretty rigid about it.

Cancel culture: getting stuck on the discourse rather than looking at the system.

My default will always be to go for the worst-case scenario and that is something that I am unlearning.

Driven, authentic, resilient.

Building my mum her dream home.

In South Africa I washed cars, I danced in parking lots and shopping malls, and was a children’s entertainer.

As someone who cared boldly about people, stood firmly for what he believed in and lifted others when they needed help.

Absolutely nothing. It’s a privilege.